


in your care

by determination



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Gen, cat gets sensory overload, christopher is also autistic in my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: Cat gets very overwhelmed. Chrestomanci seems to know just how to help (perhaps from experience).
Relationships: Cat Chant & Christopher Chant, Christopher Chant/Millie
Kudos: 8





	in your care

**Author's Note:**

> breaks writing hiatus to burst through the door into the...nonexistent chrestomanci fandom <:3c  
> i reread charmed life recently, a childhood favorite, and fell completely in love with the characters. that of course lead to rereading the lives of christopher chant (the other one i read as a kid) and now i'm steadily making my way through the rest of the books from the series (and realizing how silly i was when i was a kid because i didn't even know there were more books).  
> finding out cat is canonically autistic made me very happy, and i personally love the headcanon that christopher is too, so i think he would want to go out of his way to make sure cat feels at home and taken care of. (i'm autistic and the way i described cat's sensory overload is based on my own experience)  
> no criticism or critiques please. i hope you enjoy!

Too much. Too much. _Too much_ -

“... Cat. Cat, are you alright?”

Chrestomanci’s voice startled Cat out of what he hadn’t realized was a stupor. His heart was pounding uncomfortably and he was trembling. When he looked up, he met Chrestomanci’s eyes and found them full of concern. This made him feel guilty for not noticing that Chrestomanci had been trying to get his attention. 

“I’m sorry,” Cat said, voice quiet and a little rough. “I… I got overwhelmed, that’s all.”

Chrestomanci’s expression turned vague, but Cat knew that meant he was considering this statement with the utmost care. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “You don’t look well. Shall I send for some tea?”

“No, that’s alright,” Cat shook his head, but the motion made the room spin, and he stumbled, bracing a hand on Chrestomanci’s desk to keep from tumbling over. At the same moment, Chrestomanci’s hand shot out and caught him by the shoulder to steady him. “Sorry,” Cat gasped.

At the second apology, Chrestomanci’s brows furrowed. “You don’t need to apologize for feeling ill,” he said. “Rather, I should much prefer if you’d tell me how I can be of help.”

Cat’s face flushed lightly. If he tried to give it any thought, he really wasn’t sure. His mind felt jumbled, and the longer he was on his feet, the more unbalanced he felt. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten this feeling. It happened on occasion, usually when too many things were happening, or sounds were too loud, or some kind of big change occurred. He thought of when he’d first come to Chrestomanci castle and recalled feeling very much the same as he felt at this moment. Perhaps he’d overdone it while practicing his spells.

Chrestomanci had been watching Cat while he thought, still looking vague. When it grew evident that an answer would not be forthcoming, he exhaled and shifted so that his chair was away from the desk, then opened his arms. “Come here,” he said gently. Cat blinked at him a few times, confused. His confusion seemed to amuse Chrestomanci, who smiled in a soft way that Cat was not used to seeing. For some reason, it made him feel at ease. “I used to do this for Julia and Roger when they were ill or upset, until they insisted they were too grown for it. But I rather think one is never too grown to be held.” 

The implication of his words made Cat feel fuzzy inside. He’d never gotten much physical affection growing up, not from his parents and certainly not from Gwendolen. If people touched him, it was the sort of groping the people of Coven Street had done when they doted on him after his parents had died. 

Hesitantly, Cat took a step around the desk, then another. It was intimidating to see Chrestomanci sitting there, arms open, looking expectantly at him. But this couldn’t be worse than the muddle of anxiety and fog currently overpowering his senses. So he finished the distance with two more decisive steps and climbed carefully into Chrestomanci’s lap. 

The change was almost instantaneous. Cat felt winded by how quickly a calm washed over him. Chrestomanci had only just finished wrapping his arms around Cat, and shifted to accommodate the additional weight on his chair. Cat found himself quite comfortable, cradled there with most of his weight against Chrestomanci’s chest. 

Cat adjusted to look up at Chrestomanci in awe. “... Did you do something?” Cat asked. “I can think straight again.”

Chrestomanci shrugged, the gesture slight enough that it barely jostled Cat at all. “Not particularly.” But Cat could feel some sort of spell hovering around them. It was slightly heavy, as if someone had put a thick comforter over him, and appeared to dull the buzz of overstimulation that had made him so uneasy. The position was wonderfully serene. Cat could hear Chrestomanci’s steady heartbeat if he laid his head down. He felt Chrestomanci give a little hum. 

This was something new for Cat. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where someone held him like this, with a gentleness that showed they cared about him. Cat still was not used to feeling cared about. Certainly he’d been taken care of ever since he’d been orphaned, but as he’d grown older, he’d learned to tell the difference between obligated care and genuine care. Gwendolen had not cared. Mrs. Sharp might have cared a little, but he thought her greed had prevented her from forming the sort of attachment that produced genuine care. 

But the people at the castle did care. It hadn’t happened immediately, but Cat didn’t think he blamed them. 

Janet cared. Roger and Julia cared. Millie cared. And, as difficult as it was to believe, Chrestomanci cared, too. Cat wasn't sure why it surprised him, but he still found it difficult sometimes to move past his initial fears of the enigmatic man. He was strange and hard to understand, but the more Cat came to know him, the more he began to piece together what his certain behaviors meant. Even without fully understanding Chrestomanci, Cat knew beyond doubt that he cared. And that thought made him smile and settle closer. 

“Comfortable, are we?” Chrestomanci asked in what might have sounded an agitated tone, if Cat had not recognized the amusement in it. Cat smiled wider and nodded. “Then shall I tell you stories? That always did wonders to calm the children. Even Millie, too, when we were younger.” 

That remark made Cat’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Really?” It was difficult to picture the kindly woman being upset enough to need that sort of distraction.

“Certainly,” Chrestomanci said. “You’d be surprised.” He paused to chuckle to himself as if he were sharing an inside joke that Cat did not know. Then he adjusted his grip on Cat in a way that made Cat more comfortable than ever.

He talked for a while after that. Cat was very interested, except that he found his eyelids drooping. He wondered if perhaps Chrestomanci had done that, too, but he didn’t mind. Even if he couldn’t process what Chrestomanci was saying, the sound of his voice was more than comforting.

It wasn’t long before Cat felt himself dozing off.

\--

Millie knocked quietly at the door before letting herself in, balancing a tray of tea in one hand. A smile broke across her face when she saw the way Christopher was sitting at his desk, awkwardly angling himself to write without disturbing the slumbering child curled in his lap. He gave her a put upon look as she stepped up to the desk and set down the tray. “Here’s that tea you wanted,” she said, making sure to keep her voice a whisper. 

Cristopher made a show of looking unaffected, but she could see how much he was actually enjoying himself. “Can you believe the boy fell asleep mid story? The audacity.”

“Says the one who helped him to sleep,” Millie raised a brow at him. Christopher was unable to keep the grin off his face, and Millie laughed at the boyish nature of the expression. “I always knew you’d be good with children, in your own way. You’ve proved me right every time.”

“Perhaps it is children who are good with me,” Christopher said with a vague look. She could see right through it to know that he was actually quite proud. 

“Both ways, then,” Millie nodded. “It warms my heart to see Cat so comfortable with you now. He was so frightened of you before, you know.”

At that, Cristopher heaved a quiet sigh. “Yes, I’m well aware.” He set down his work and massaged a temple with one hand. “Not that I blame him. I supposed I was rather unfair to him.”

Millie observed him for a few moments, mind working to see through the layers of sculpted indifference. She smiled. “He reminds you of yourself when you were a boy, I wager.” She knew she’d hit the nail on the head when Cristopher shot her an affronted look. “You remembered how Gabriel de Witt treated you when you first came here, and how your own ignorant actions were interpreted by those around you. You don’t want him to go through the same loneliness you experienced.”

Christopher’s jaw was tight as he held Millie’s gaze. Then, he sighed again. He looked down at the sleeping Cat, a sort of fondness in his eyes that made Millie smile. “... Perhaps,” he muttered. “... His sister abused him wretchedly. Without parents or friends…” Cristopher smiled sadly and lifted a hand, gently brushing fingers through Cat’s messy hair. “He had no one on his side.” He looked back to Millie, expression solemn. “You know me, Millie. I’ve done my utmost to act without regret. I make my decisions and I stand by them. But… I can’t look at my early behavior toward Cat without guilt.” 

“You had no way of knowing,” Millie started to say, but Christopher shook his head. 

“Maybe not, but I made no effort to know. I distanced myself instead of trying to understand him. The signs were there from the start, if I’d cared to look. I should have known better.” He closed his eyes and looked tired. “And now I find myself wondering if I am only caring for him to atone for that.”

Millie watched him mutely, before a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “There you go again. You think too hard, dear.” Cristopher frowned exaggeratedly at her, which made her stifle a giggle against the back of her hand. “You’ve been like this for as long as I’ve known you. It always took you a little longer to figure out the extent of your own feelings. But you know that already.”

Pursing his lips, Christopher averted his gaze to the ceiling, putting on his vaguest expression. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said. Millie had to suppress another giggle. But she could see her words had brought him back, and the fondness had returned to his eyes as he looked to the slumbering boy again. “... He has the sort of countenance that makes you want to protect him, doesn’t he.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Millie agreed with an emphatic nod. “But don’t let him hear you say that. He wants so badly to get past the need for protection.”

“Don’t I know it,” Christopher said, sagging a bit. “The rate he blasts through the spells I teach him, you’d think there was a finite amount of time to learn them.” The image of little Cat wearing himself out by overexerting his poor body was so in character that it made Millie smile again. Christopher went on, “Even still, he must have some amount of self awareness, and no small desire to be looked after. He was so happy to be held.”

Millie’s smile widened. “Dear boy,” she said, and couldn’t resist lifting a hand to softly pat Cat’s head. “I shall have to remember to hug him twice as much in future.” 

She was pleased to see Christopher grin in amusement. “Indeed.”

As Cristopher helped himself to a cup of tea, Millie headed for the door. She turned round with her hand on the doorknob. “It’s almost the dressing gong,” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t you wake him?”

Christopher waved a hand vaguely and made no effort to oblige. “In due time.” She smiled and shook her head as she left.

\--

It was something of a sight when Chrestomanci arrived to dinner with Cat in his arms and sat him down in his chair with a gentle flourish. Cat wouldn’t say he minded, really. The attention was embarrassing, as was the fact that he’d slept through the rest of his lessons. But he did feel much better, and very, very cared for.


End file.
